Rebel With a Cause
by DanceAcrossPaper
Summary: Being sent to live with my aunt comes with a few rules. Don't get into anymore trouble. Keep grades up. No using powers on Humans. In a small town like Beacon Hills, that doesn't seem like it would be a problem.
1. August

**Rebel With a Cause**

**Summary:**

Being sent to live with my aunt comes with a few rules. Don't get into anymore trouble. Keep grades up. No using powers on Humans. In a small town like Beacon Hills, that doesn't seem like it would be a problem.

**Author's Note:**

This is a Teen Wolf fanfiction and under no circumstances do I own any characters, aside from my Original Character; Star. She _is_ a year ahead of them. This will stay relatively close to canon through seasons one and two, maybe a few changes in season 3, and a strong possibility of not following season 4. The first few chapters are pre-season (the first half of their (Scott and Stiles') Sophomore Year (Star's Junior Year) and will bleed into season one. I haven't really decided on romantic pairings yet; it's between Stiles/Star or Derek/Star, but either way, the relationship will take awhile to build up to.

* * *

**Chapter One**  
_August_

* * *

_**'I'm Star. It's not really my real name, but it's the name Chosen for myself. Before you begin the story about how I was pulled into this mess, you might as well be forewarned. I'm abrasive and care very little for the coming-and-going of my peers. I'm something of a prodigy for my People and I lived a relatively normal life for someone like me. Of course, when someone is good at something, other people don't seem to appreciate the sentiment of hard work and dedication. My arrogance led to a horrible conclusion.**_

_**No one was happy with the outcome. Not those who survived. Not my parents. Not even myself.**_

_**With a taint running through my blood, I was sent away from my lovely native home of Baton Rouge to a small ass town called Beacon Hills half-way across the country. It was a start to a new beginning.**_

_**A fresh start I felt I didn't deserve.'**_

* * *

Her medium-length light-auburn hair frames her face in windswept layers. Almond-shaped eyes colored blue; a shade too impossible to describe, but seem to burn with an underlying gleam. Naturally light-tan complexion covers her entire body, the visible skin flawless except for the few tattoos etched on her body. Standing no taller than five-foot-five, the girl was neither short, nor petite, nor tall, nor curvy.

"Well, this is it."

Her gaze settles on the quaint two-story house in front of her. It looks like a lovely home. Her aunt always had a bit of a green thumb; she vaguely remembers beautiful rose bushes and an array of exotic flora. Her gaze moves from the house and slides over to the older woman standing at her side, her head never moving position. She tries to soften her expression upon seeing the hesitance on her aunt's face and in her posture.

"Y'have a lovely home, _Tante Marie_."

Aunt Marie winces at the empty tone of her voice, "This is now your home as well, Star."

A faint buzz of energy teases her fingertips, causing them to twitch. Stretching out her fingers, Star glares down at the ground as her fingers curl inward, a fist clenched as she shakes off the feeling. It isn't that she doesn't appreciate her aunt's open, warm welcome. Her aunt never wanted children; being too much of a free-spirit to settle down in one place for very long. It seems more like a punishment for her aunt; being forced to house someone like her.

"Let me show you to your room. You can get settled in."

With a curt nod, Star moves to the trunk, hooking a satchel over her shoulder before lifting two of the five heavy suitcases. Following her aunt into the house and up the stairs, Star looks around the Spartan bedroom. The foreign air causes the teenager to shift her weight before she drops her things on the floor. Moving back to the main level, she slips out the front door just to pause at the sight of a man dressed in a tan uniform talking with his aunt. Taking a step closer, Star's sharp gaze immediately settles on the star-shaped badge pinned to the left breast of the man's uniform.

"Oh, Star. Come meet Sheriff Stilinski." Swallowing back the bile in her throat, Star nods stiffly before moving closer and coming to stop next to her aunt, "Sheriff, this is my niece, Star. Star, this is Sheriff Stilinski. He, and his son, live next door."

The Sheriff is a handsome man. Blonde hair peppered with grey. Blue eyes open and honest. A face displaying warmth and welcome. Star sees the various lines of stress around his eyes, matched with the laughter lines along the edges of his mouth. He makes to speak when a thump sounds from behind Aunt Marie's car.

"Oh man!" a young voice calls out, "I hope nothing's broken in this thing."

The Sheriff sighs with exasperation and fondness, blue eyes flicking in the direction of the voice, "Son, leave those for now and come here."

The boy that emerges from behind her aunt's car is tall; limb too long as though he hadn't grown into them yet. His hair is buzzed short, bristles shaved close to the scalp. Wide amber eyes stare at her with vivid interest; eyes the same shade as her father's favorite whisky. She watches with a blank expression as his gaze moves over her pierced lip and the ink creeping up the side of her neck.

His hand extends, "I'm Stiles."

There's a pause in the air, and Stiles shares a look with his father before Star realizes she's supposed to shake the boy's hand. Clasping her hand with his, she ignores the light tingle that crawls up her spine, "Star."

"Your parents named you _Star_?" the boy blurts out, earning a cuff across the back of the head.

"Not exactly, _Stiles_," Star's monotone voice breaks as she stresses his own name.

Rubbing the back of his head, Stiles blinks before chuckling, "Oh? My name is a horrible monstrosity made of too many consonants and not enough vowels."

"I don't go by m'given name," Star replies.

Even though both her aunt and the Sheriff flinch at her empty tone, Stiles doesn't seem bothered as he tilts his head, "You from the South or something?"

"Baton Rouge, Louisiana."

"Wow!" Stiles blinks before grinning, "Why the heck are you here of all places?"

"Punishment for aggressive violence toward self-absorbed, self-entitled assholes with a penchant for hurting weaker people," Star says, as if reading it straight from a text book.

Snorting with humor, Stiles grins again, ignoring the startled look his father sends her aunt, "You got in a fight with bullies and got sent away?"

Thinking over the simplification of the situation, Star nods, wondering if the boy is naturally this astute, "That is correct."

"Awesome, because there's this guy at-"

Whatever Stiles was going to say is cut off when his father's hand claps down over his mouth, "We don't encourage violence, Stiles."

The corner of Star's lips twitch upon seeing the puppy-eyes blinking up at the Sheriff from behind the man's hand. For the first time in a month, something flickers in the empty, hollow core of herself. Her lips straighten once again, her head tilting to the side as she looks over the boy. A spastic idiot with no brain-to-mouth filter.

Swallowing back the sickening bile, Star shakes her head and moves toward the trunk. Gathering two of the three remaining bags, she tries to ignore Stiles as he rushes to help. It becomes even more awkward as the lanky teen stumbles up the staircase and tripping over his own feet as she leads them into her room. He lets out a huff of breath as he drops her suitcase on the floor.

"Damn. What did you pack in there? Bricks?"

Looking at the particular bag, Star shrugs a shoulder, "Y'not entirely wrong," She pulls the zipper aside and flips the top up, revealing her cache of old books and tomes, "These belonged to _ma grand-mère_. Didn't have the heart t'leave 'em behind."

"You mean I just lugged up a suitcase full of _books_?!"

The wide-eyes and affronted expression causes Star's fingers to twitch, her fingers once again curling inward, "Didn't exactly ask for your help, _mon ami_."

Rubbing a hand over his head, his hand clamps onto the back of his neck, "Just trying to be friendly."

Star says nothing, nodding curtly. She wasn't sent here to make friends. She was sent here because she was no longer welcomed in her Home. Stiles mentions heading back outside to his dad and says something about seeing her around, and Star is left with her thoughts. As the door shuts behind the vibrant boy, Star lets out a shuddering breath, hands trembling. Dropping her gaze, she stares at her shaking hands, the smooth light-tan skin visibly clean and unblemished.

"Why?" she murmurs softly to the empty room around her.

Searching through her bags, she grabs her IPod and quickly sets up the IHome unit. With a tap of a finger, angry lyrics and heavy Rock music bleeds through the air with a burst of noise. Successfully emptying her thoughts.

If only for a moment.

* * *

_**'Beacon Hills is a town residing on the outskirts of a Preserve. The surrounding woods were not familiar, their energy alone was something I had never felt. It was also an energy I had to get accustomed to. People of my being rely on the energies given to us by the Three Celestial Bodies: The Sun, The Earth, and The Moon.**_

_**The Sun is bright, warm and ever present with Pure Energy. It is powerful and dangerous. It is the Celestial Body most difficult to rely on; the amount of energy put out by The Sun could fry one of my People from the inside-out.**_

_**The Earth is old, bountiful and lush with Natural Energy. It is serene and constant. It is the Celestial Body easiest to rely on; always giving, yet always seeking replenishment.**_

_**The Moon is the youngest of the three and full of everlasting Metaphysical Energy. Each Phase grants a different type of Metaphysical energy. It is the Celestial Body of Replenishment; a way for my People to refuel.**_

_**It is often difficult getting accustomed to the energies put off by a new location. Not a single location is rapt with the same energies as another location.**_

_**Beacon Hills feels different than Home. Beacon Hills feels...tainted.'**_

* * *

Having nothing to do until the start of the new term at a new school, Star often took walks in along the trails throughout the Preserve. Each new area discovered is something different. Baton Rouge, much like most of the Southern States, was always present with Mystic Energy; Magic bleeding into the air. It was enough to make someone like her choke on the Magic.

Beacon Hills felt like a mash-up of several different Energies. Natural mixing with Metaphysical, Pure mixing with Mystic. It leaves a bitter taste on her tongue. Copper, metallic in flavor. Sharp with a tinge of salt and sugar. It was a taste she couldn't understand. The unnatural mixing of the Energies causes her to feel all out-of-sorts.

After a week of roaming the woods, Star locates one of the Taints. The burnt-out husk of what was once a beautiful home was wrought with Death, Betrayal and Hatred. Her fingers tingle in response to the Taint, her blank gaze growing somber as she takes in the destruction.

People lived here. Not all entirely Human, but not one of her People either. The amount of Metaphysical Energy still embedded into the wooden skeleton of the house was tantamount to the people that once lived here. Inhaling deeply, Star slowly sinks to the ground, crossing her legs and her entire body falling into a meditative state.

It takes two hours for her Core to acclimate to the Energies surrounding the house. She wasn't sure how these people's Home was decimated. There was no Taint to the Energies itself, but in the ground under the foundation, in the wooden frame left standing in the wake. By the time she collects herself from her acclimation, she approaches the front porch. Removing a switchblade from her pocket, the smooth slide of the blade extracting itself from its case sounds before she begins etching a small symbol in the frame lining with the porch.

_Sorrow taken. Sorrow given._ The blade etches another symbol directly beneath it. _Spirit lost. Spirit found. _One more symbol is carved into the wood frame. _Painful Death. Peaceful Rest._

Clicking the blade shut, Star kisses the tip of her index finger before pressing it against the final symbol.

"May you find Peace and Comfort in your journey," she murmurs gently.

There is no fixing the Taint surrounding this place. There is nothing she can do to replenish these Energies. Feeling her fingers twitch, she knows she's exposed herself long enough to the Taint. Turning on heel, she leaves the resting place of a once-beautiful Home.

A Home that feels more like a tomb.

She wishes she never has to feel this again.

* * *

"Star!"

Eyelids slide apart and gleaming blue eyes look toward the voice. Standing on the other side of the fence between their backyards, Stiles' face blinks at her with curiosity.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Meditating," she quips, her gaze turning to the boy standing at his side.

Floppy black hair frames a boyish face. His jaw was the only thing assymetrcial on his face, but it didn't take away from the sheepish, shy charm the boy possessed. Deep, rich brown eyes peer at her in a mix of confusion and curiosity.

"Oh! This is my brother-from-another-mother, Scott McCall. Scotty, this is Marie's niece, Star."

Scott waves at her, his smile as genuine as his friend's. When Stiles asks if they can come around the fence, Star heaves an inward sigh before nodding. Both boys drop onto the grass, sitting in a manner that allows all of them to be able to see each other without much movement.

"So, you meditate?" Scott asks, his head tilting.

Star nods curtly, "_Oui_. It helps relax my mind. Now, surely, the two of ya have bettah things t'do than interrupt it."

Scott seems to grow more bashful as Stiles lets out a choke of laughter, "We were playing Mario Kart and we went to the kitchen to get some refreshments when Scotty noticed you sitting out here by yourself. He wanted to know who you were."

"I was just curious," Scott defends, eyes wide and pouting.

Star stares at the two teasing friends and blinks slowly. Of the Three! She only knew of one person to have ever given such an expression. The same head tilt and simpering eyes.

_'Aw, c'mon, Star! I only be wantin' another. Please...' Hazel eyes blink at her widely, head tilting and the plea in his voice._

_'I hate you.'_

_A cheer errupts from the boy, 'Y'know y'love me!'_

_'No. That is hate, on a visceral level.'_

_'Stop lying to y'self, Starlette!'_

_'Call me that again, and I will kill you, y'overgrown child!'_

"Star?"

Blinking, the girl shakes her head and realizes she had tuned out of the conversation, "_Désolé._ Your friend...Scott?" The boy in question nods, "Reminds me of an old friend."

"Is this friend of your's an idiot too?" Stiles retorts, earning a punch in the shoulder from his friend.

Thinking it over, Star nods curtly, "_Oui_. He was a bit of an idiot, but a good kid."

"Hey, we were going to head out to the diner for lunch. You wanna join us?" Stiles suggests, looking from her to his friend, who nods in agreement.

Looking back and forth between the two, Star wishes she could stab Scott in the eyes, if only to get rid of those pouting eyes. Sighing, she bows her head in agreement.

* * *

Sitting in the booth across from the boys, Star stares down at her half-eaten meal. The proportions were large for a very reasonable, yet low price. She had never been the type to eat excessively, and she doesn't have the stomach to finish the rest of it. Seeing Stiles' gaze flit between her and the pile of curly fries left untouched, Star rolls her eyes before sliding the plate across the table.

"Here. S'not right, wastin' food."

The large grin she gets in return is only slightly startling. She hasn't been on the receiving end of a look like that for a few months now.

"So, how do you like Beacon Hills, so far?"

Glancing at Scott, she ponders over the question before shrugging, "It's vastly different than Baton Rouge. I've taken to walking around the Preserve when I get the chance."

"You go out by yourself? You do know there have been mountain lions spotted occasionally," Stiles squeaks out in surprise.

"Perhaps, but I have not come across any. I...used to take hikes through the woods and swamp area back Home. It's...different, here. Not as much vegetation and wildlife," Star pauses, tapping her finger against the table as she ponders over her next question, "What happened to the house?" The boys share a look of confusion, "It...looks like a tragedy occurred to a house residing in the Preserve."

"Oh," Stiles' gaze flickers with understanding and sympathy, "The Hale Fire. It happened about...ten years ago?" He tilts his head, eyebrows crinkling with forced remembrance, "The Hale's were a predominate family in Beacon Hills, like founding-father kind of family. Ten years ago, the house caught on fire, killing all but...three. No one really knows what happened. Two of the survivors took off and the other is more-or-less in a vegetative state."

Star hums somberly, "That _is_ a tragedy."

"Changing the depressing topic," Scott remarks, shifting with discomfort, "Tell us about yourself."

"Everyone calls me Star. I was sent to live with _Tante Marie_ after puttin' five people in the hospital," Scott's eyebrows shoot up while Stiles' eyes widen, both of them leaning forward.

"What?! I thought you said you got in a fight with bullies."

Star's eyebrows narrow, eyes darkening, "They were bullies. They didn't like that fact that I was too good at different things. They didn't like anything about me, but they weren't stupid enough to pull something on me. So, they decided to set up my friends. Chemistry class," Star fingers curl inward, knuckles turning white with pressure, "When no one was lookin', they changed out some of the components during a lab and it caused a bad...reaction. Three classrooms were destroyed beyond repair, half of the students in the class were lucky to get out without any damage. My...friends weren't as lucky. One didn't make it and the other two were put in ICU at the local hospital."

"And they just got away with it?" Stiles demands, eyes narrowed with anger.

"Not like I was able t'prove they did it. I knew though," Star gestures to her eyes, "There's a certain look people get when they knowingly hurt innocent people. It's...like a...mark, or taint," Star is barely able to spit the last word out, "No solid evidence they did it, but I _knew_. I barely made it through half a day at school before one o'em said somethin' smart. I..." Swallowing thickly, Star taps her temple, "can't quite remember most of what happened, but...it was bad. Two of the one's in the hospital didn't...deserve t'be there. So, _Maman_ thought it would be best t'send me somewhere else. Y'know, start fresh."

Scott looks to be somber, and yet a bit reluctant; Stiles appearing more angry and sympathetic. It felt odd. For Star to speak of the incident. Even if it wasn't the entire truth, it was the closest she's come to admitting to what happened.

"Well, I think we should get the hell out of here, head back to my place and play some Mario Kart. You up for it?" Stiles offers, breaking the tension with a practiced ease that leaves Star to blink in surprise.

"I guess it can't hurt. Though, I'll be honest in saying I don't know how to play."

The genuinely shocked expressions causes her lips to twitch in amusement.

* * *

"I thought you said you've never played!" Scott wails as his Luigi character is knocked off the track, Yoshi rounding the curve with excessive speed.

"Tch," Star clicks her tongue against the back of her teeth, "Y'should see me drive an actual car."

"I feel like we've been swindled."

For the first time in a long time, a small snicker escapes Star's lips, the smile she grants them showing far too many teeth to be considered sane, "I don't make a habit out of lying."

"Good God, if this is how you drive, my dad's going to pull you over."

"Aw, and here I thought Speed Limits are optional."

The banter comes easy. She really shouldn't be allowing this to happen, but for the first time since the incident, her fingers don't tingle with the suppressed Taint. For the first time, Star feels the shadows lurking in her Core fading in the back.

It is little comfort, but comfort all the same. And for now, she'll take what she can get.

* * *

_**'It was the beginning of our friendship and much like the beginning, it seemed no matter what we did, it always came about the same way. Stiles would suggest something, Scott would agree (either reserved or excitedly) and I would be dragged along against my will due to my inability to say 'no' to Scott's puppy eyes.**_

_**It was the beginning of a friendship I never wanted, but somehow received.'**_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Leave a review and let me know what you guys think so far. This introduction is more to give you insight on the character. There are reasons for her reactions toward Scott and Stiles, respectively, and they aren't for the same reason. We can assume Season One starts around January, so the first few chapters will display the growth of Star's friendship with _ScottandStiles_, and her friendship with Scott...and Stiles.**

**Next Chapter: September- School starts. Star thinks the infamous Lydia Martin is six degrees of bad ass (in all the right ways) and finds amusement in talking Jackson Whittemore in circles.**


	2. September

**Rebel With a Cause**

**Summary:**

Being sent to live with my aunt comes with a few rules. Don't get into anymore trouble. Keep grades up. No using powers on Humans. In a small town like Beacon Hills, that doesn't seem like it would be a problem.

**Author's Note:**

This is a Teen Wolf fanfiction and under no circumstances do I own any characters, aside from my Original Character; Star. She _is_ a year ahead of them. This will stay relatively close to canon through seasons one and two, maybe a few changes in season 3, and a strong possibility of not following season 4. The first few chapters are pre-season (the first half of their (Scott and Stiles') Sophomore Year (Star's Junior Year) and will bleed into season one. I haven't really decided on romantic pairings yet; it's between Stiles/Star or Derek/Star, but either way, the relationship will take awhile to build up to.

* * *

**Chapter Two**  
_September_

* * *

_**'As I've said before, I happen to be good at a lot of different things. Sciences and Art come easy. I'm the youngest of my People to ever manipulate Pure Energy and live. I can shimmy up a drain pipe. I may or may not be proficient at sneaking into places. There's a lot that I can do because I've been trained to do it from such a young age.**_

_**My favorite gift I have is the ability to play the role. Plaster on a fake smile and even give a fake laugh, it's easy and flawless.**_

_**And way too much fun.**_

_**Scott thinks it's creepy how quick I switch. Stiles keeps asking if it's some kind of super power.'**_

* * *

Star is used to being stared at. It was a problem back Home. She isn't all that surprised that it's an immediate problem in Beacon Hills. She isn't sure if it's the piercings and tattoos; obviously none of the students have an idea of self-expression. It might be due to her state of dress. Doc Martin boots. Neon-green leggings. A deep-purple mini-dress made of pure cotton. A cherry red three-inch wide belt cinched around her waist. Black finger-less gloves. A red knitted soft-cap pulled over the crown of her head. She knows she looks oddly displaced. Most of the students are dressed more conservatively. The bulky black Skull Candy headphones help her ignore the stares as she saunters across the parking lot.

A screech of breaks burning against rubber sounds through her music and she barely looks up in time to see the front bumper of a Porsche coming to a stop inches from her leg. Her gaze lifts from the bumper to the blonde-haired teen behind the wheel. Seeing the arrogant sneer and hand motions for her to move, she cocks an arrogant smirk before lifting her hand; her middle finger granting the boy a salute. Snickering at the seething glare, she clicks her tongue against the back of her teeth dismissively, patting the hood of the admittedly beautiful car before continuing on her way.

She makes it to the front steps when a familiar weight drops across her shoulders. Her eyes flick to the side without turning her head and she finds herself staring at a familiar, grinning face with expressive whisky-colored eyes. Tugging her headphones down so they hang off her neck, she heaves a small sigh.

"Stiles."

"Yes?"

"Move it, or lose it."

The arm snatches away and the boy gives her a sheepish grin, "Sorry, but you deserved a hug after what you did." She quirks an eyebrow, not entirely sure what he was going on about, "That was Jackson Whittemore. He's a bit of a douche and thinks he's entitled because mommy and daddy are loaded."

"Mind showin' me to the Administration Office."

Stiles grins, offering her his arm.

_When in Rome._

Rolling her eyes, she offers the boy a small, genuine half-smile before hooking her arm with his. As they transverse the halls, Stiles gives her a rundown on students and teachers to look out for. Dropping her off at the office, Stiles mentions catching up with Scott and seeing her at lunch before the boy races off. Shaking her head, she ponders of the ease of the new friendship between the three of them. Why them? In her experience, nothing ever happens without a reason.

* * *

She's half-way through her Fine Arts class, a sketch of a blooming rose forming on paper beneath her strokes. With her headphones in place and music blasting in her ears, she focuses on the fallen petals, shifting the soft pink petals into a deep crimson the further down the petals fall. Displaying one petal half-intact and half melting into a pool of red below, she swallows at the too-close-for-comfort metaphor behind her sketch.

A displacement in the air at her side causes her to blink, snapping out of focus. Turning to the person responsible, she finds herself staring at hazel-green eyes. Swallowing thickly, Star tugs the headphones down and offers the red-head a smile.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"I've never seen you before," Star doesn't say anything as the girl's pouty pink lips purse with thought, "You must be new."

"_Oui._"

"You're artwork is rather morbid."

"Perhaps a little bit. Can I help ya?" She quirks an eyebrow, "Y'don't come off as someone t'bother with small talk."

"I'm merely scoping out this year's competition. I understand you were at the top of your class."

Star shrugs a shoulder, "Don't care too much about school, but _mon père_ insists in keepin' m'grades up. What 'bout y'self? Y'don't seem like the type t'care what y'grades are." Her eyebrows narrow at the slight against her character, but Star waves a hand aimlessly, "but, then that's what y'want people t'think, _non_? Stupid pretty girl who cares more about her nail polish and accessories than whether she gets that A-letter grade average."

"Excuse me?"

Hearing the affronted tone, Star smirks, gleaming eyes giving off a nonchalant expression, "Don't sound so offended. Being able t'play people is a knack I can respect."

The offended expression shifts with surprise, "You think I play people?"

"I think y'made a master at the skill. People follow your direction without a word, because y'make people see what y'want them t'see. There's nothin' wrong with being able t'see the whole picture," Star grins with a feral undertone, "Y'rule the school because y'can prey on their weaknesses. Plannin' t'run for president?"

"No. I'd rather keep grey hairs away until I'm in my fifties," the red-head remarks, lips twitching with a smirk, "I plan more for the Nobel than presidency."

"Now _that_ is a goal I can respect," Star retorts.

The girl tilts her head, eyes appraising for a brief moment before she extends her hand, "Lydia."

"Everyone calls me Star," Star clasps the red-head's hand and plasters a smile on her face.

Even as a familiar sensation crawls up her spine.

_What is it with these people?_

As the bell rings, Star puts away her artwork in her designated area, "Come. We have lunch."

Star pauses in tugging the strap of her satchel over her shoulder, her gaze blank as she turns on Lydia, "First," she ticks off a finger, "I'm not like the idiots around here, so don't talk _at_ me like I'm a follower. Two," Star ticks off a second finger, "I've already made plans to eat with some friends."

Lydia doesn't seem bothered by the curtness of her tone, "Very well."

As Lydia struts out of the room, Star waits for a moment before a smirk tugs on her lips. Oh yeah. Lydia Martin is definitely a force of nature. Shaking her head, Star's gaze lifts to the ceiling.

_Is this your doing? Y'just had t'put someone here just as sassy as yourself._

"Miss Suzumi?" Blinking, Star tenses at the use of her surname, "Is everything alright?"

"M'fine, but I'd prefer it if y'called me Star, Ms. Larson."

The art teacher smiles and nods, "Very well. You should get going."

* * *

_**'It was obvious from the start that there was something more to Lydia Martin. I wasn't just talking about the way she plays people so easily. She truly is a force of nature. She reminded me of 'him' so much. The perfect prodigal child to self-important parents. Hiding behind a mask of false insecurities.**_

_**Jackson Whittemore, on the other hand, is too easy to read that it makes messing with him feel like child's play.'**_

* * *

It's only the third day into the start of the year and Star saunters through the halls, turning a corner just in time to witness Scott being body-checked into a set of lockers. Stiles immediately drops his things as his friend wheezes through an asthma attack. Gleaming blue eyes focus on the snickering blonde-haired boy walking in her direction. If there is one thing she's pleased, it is being able to feign indifference, as the boy turns back to his friends; the distance between them eaten up. Mourning for what's about to come, Star braces herself as she walks head-first into the blonde.

"What the hell?!"

As her disposable-cup of hot coffee splashes against the front of the boy's shirt, Star blinks in surprise, her arms flailing out, catching the boy's cheek, "O-oh my! I-I am like...super sorry. Gosh, I really should watch where I'm going." Through the confusion, she spins around, her elbow connecting with the boy's torso as she digs around in her bag, "I'm sure I have some napkins, or something...Ah Ha!" As she jumps in feigned excitement, the back of her head connects with the front of the blonde's face with a sickening pop.

"Oh! Are you bleeding?" Star blinks as the boy's hand cups his nose, "Oh, here!" Without any restraint, Star slaps the napkins against the front of his face, causing the boy to groan. Hooking her other arm around him, her hand palms the back of his skull and she places more pressure on his broken nose, forcing the boy's gaze on her own, "I see ya do somethin' like that again, _homme_, this..._accident_ will be child's play. Y'get me?" The boy glares at her, only causing her to place more pressure on his nose, "Dis be the only warnin' y'get."

The dark expression disappears as Star forces a bright, happy smile on her face, "You should really get to the Nurse. Get that nose checked out. Would hate to see your only positive trait ruined," She pats his cheek with a sharp, feigned-playful slap.

The boy huffs, wincing in pain before he saunters off, "Stupid freak."

"Star..." The auburn-haired girl glances over to see Scott rubbing at his chest, leaning against Stiles, "That was beyond creepy to watch."

"What? Threatening that asshole?" Star raises an eyebrow in surprise.

Stiles snorts with good humor, "No. You acting like a happy-go-lucky ditz."

"Yeah. Keep with the..." Scott motions to his face, trying to make his face as expressionless as possible (and failing miserably), "Nothing face."

Star blinks at them before leaning forward, wrapping her arms around Scott and nuzzling her cheek against his, "Aww..I love ya too, Scotty. Ain't ya just a peach!"

Scott's wide, freaked out expression causes Stiles to burst into laughter before Star shoves him away from her, her expression once again calm and collected, "Ugh..._feelings_. I hafta get t'my Calculus class."

Stiles claps her lightly on her shoulder, "We'll see you at Lunch."

With a lazy wave of acknowledgment, Star starts on her path once again.

* * *

It's a lazy Saturday afternoon that finds Star sitting on the grassy yard behind her aunt's house. Lost in memories, her nimble fingers carefully drags the sharpened end of the pencil along the once-blank paper. Shaping the round face, she makes sure to add the small scar just along the outside of the left eyebrow. Her movements are methodical as she details the unkempt hair and lazy half-smile; eyes shimmering with affection.

"Is he the friend you lost?"

She doesn't jump at the sudden question. Her pencil does freeze in its blissful movements, fingers tightening just the slightest bit as she lifts her gaze from the sketch. Meeting sympathetic and genuinely curious whisky-colored eyes, Star says nothing as she motions for him to sit down. Her pencil traces across the paper again as she begins adding finer details; the slightest dusting of freckles along the apples of cheeks.

"His name was Malcolm," she murmurs gently, voice the softest it had ever been, "He was always happy, bright and bold; quick t'defend. He loved with his whole heart and wasn't afraid t'let people know what he thought. He was...the most normal person I've evah known and he was my best friend. The..._incident_ left his body disfigured beyond recognition. This," A feather-light touch brushes against the face staring at her from the paper, "is the way I choose t'remember him."

"He sounds a lot like Scotty."

Her lips turn at the edges, a somber, empty smile that doesn't reach her eyes, "I told ya, Scott reminded me of someone. Ya lucky t'have him."

"Oh I know," Stiles muses, lightly and with understanding, "He might be a bit of an idiot, but he's the best person I know next to my dad. You know, you're really good with those little details."

"M'mind has always been more...observant than anything else," Star admits, "Just like I know the index and middle finger of your right hand twitches whenever you lie," She raises her eyes to see his own widen, "That how I know, while y'might not be the strongest of people, ya happen t'be one of the most fierce. That how I know you are just as observant as I am. Your ADHD allows ya t'take in multiple things at once, right?" He blinks at her in surprise, "I know some people can't concentrate, can't sit still, but you're more like...hyper-vigilant. Sometimes it gets t'be too much and y'get tight in your chest, right?"

"They're called panic attacks," she nods knowingly, but Stiles shakes his head, "How do you know all of that?"

"I was the same way when I was younger. Sometimes," she taps the center of her chest, "I still get that tightness, but meditating helps m'work through it."

A comfortable silence follows her honest statement. As she turns to look down at the sketch of the smiling boy's face, Star feels her lips twitch.

Yes. Stiles is just like she had once been.

* * *

_**'Stiles is something special. It is obvious to anyone with eyes. Most people are incapable of taking in the full-effect of his abilities, understanding and his 'knowing'. He reminded me so much of how I had once been, years before now. It's the reason why I felt comfortable in his presence. He was the epitome of my once-innocent childhood.**_

**_Hopefully, life throws him a fucking bone, or decides to pass him by without notice. It would be a shame to see his spark of life smothered by experience.'_**

* * *

She's sitting alone at lunch, both Stiles and Scott having been given detention by their Chemistry teacher, Mr. Harris. After two weeks of attending Beacon Hills High School, Star had grown accustom to the tedious schedule. She doesn't mind it, the coming-and-going of each day gives her restless mind a sense of peace. She writing out a rough draft for her Psychology paper when her cell phone chimes a familiar tune. Ignoring the looks from nearby students, she quickly digs out her phone and answers the call.

"'Lo?"

_"__Bonjour, mon étoile préférée."_

Star swallows thickly, "_Bonjour_. I was sure y'wouldn't be allowed to call me."

"Oh, I'm not," the cheerful voice replies, causing a somber twitch to tug at the edges of her lips, "but I figure what dey don't know don't hurt 'em."

"How are y'doin?" she questions, her voice soft.

"Remembah who y'be talkin' to, _Cher_. I'm a bit beat up and have a few months of physical therapy, but I'll be a'ight. What 'bout y'self? None o'dis can be easy on ya."

She shakes her head, "Not at all, but _Je...adaptation._ There are some people that help keep m'mind off o'everythin'."

"_Merde_, I hafta go b'fore dey notice me on d'phone. I'll call ya when I can, _Cher_."

"_Adieu_, Gavin. Thanks for the call."

_"_For you? Anythin'."

It's barely a minute after she hangs up that a familiar fiery-haired beauty drops into the chair across from her, "Someone from back home?" Star nods wordlessly, cocking an eyebrow in her direction, causing the red-head to huff, "Homecoming is in three weeks and I plan on going to San Francisco next weekend to hit the boutiques. You should come with me."

"Surely y'have other friends," Star deadpans.

Lydia Martin smirks, glossy lips gleaming in the over-head lighting, "Perhaps, but none of them have any sense of style. _Your_ style might be a bit...bold, but you keep it classy."

Star ponders over it, mind traveling back to shopping in New Orleans and the boutiques in Baton Rouge. Missing her shopping expeditions, Star meets the girl's hazel-green eyes and nods curtly, "I suppose. It'll be nice t'see what San Francisco has t'offer."

"Good," Lydia slides over an honest-to-the-Three card with a ten-digit sequence of numbers on it, "My cell phone number. Call me when you get a chance this weekend and we'll go over the details."

Huffing as the red-head saunters away, Star shakes her head.

What is with these people? It has to be something in the water.

* * *

**_'Apparently it really isn't about what's in the 'water'. They say hindsight is twenty-twenty. It makes me miss those days, when things were simple. Lydia was someone I connected with on a different level. We weren't really friends. We were too similar in how we approach things; watching, taking in, using it to our advantage. Lydia always did it so openly._**

**_Me not so much.'_**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**That brings Chapter Two to an end. It was fun to write. Let me know what you think. Reviews help keep me motivated and if you have anything you want to see during the first few months, let me know. Should I have cameo-appearances by Isaac? What about Erica? Perhaps Boyd? Should I have Star keep her view of Jackson, or do you think she should catch him doing otherwise? Tell me, what you want to see.**

**Next Time: Chapter Three- October brings with it preparations (and attendance) of a school dance, Star and Scott have a one-on-one moment, Lydia and Star hit the stores and talk shop. Does Star get a date? Does she go stag? What happens when the out-of-this-world dresser 'washes up'?**

**I'd also like to give a shout out to those choosing to Follow/Favorite this story. Thank you for your silent 'thumbs up'.**

**To my Reviewers:**

**Hurricane: Thank you so much. I really am trying to keep people in character. I felt a little...off on Lydia's character, but with how Star is, and Lydia being known to speak her mind, I feel like they would connect on a different level than how she does Scott and Stiles.**

**I-ship-it: Thank you. I'm pleased that you enjoy it. I will keep in mind your suggestion on romantic interests, but it is still too early and I'd rather have my readers choose after Star interacts with Derek. I love both Derek and Stiles, for different reasons. Derek has his strengths and his weaknesses; as does Stiles, and the way Star reacts with both of them will be different. I may even go so far as to bring them into a triad-relationship (not a love-triangle), but we'll see how it works out.**

**Again, thank you for reading and please leave a review.**


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